As I go through clothes (some that I've had since grade school) I find it easier to put certain items in the "puppet pile" rather than the trash bag or the give away. Then I imagine having to cut through them and all the memories I am slicing. Then I realize I am actually repurposing and preserving them in a better way than I would be by hauling them to LA keeping them in my closet, wearing them when I run out of stuff I actually want to wear, and prolonging laundry day by weeks or months. THEN I realize I might someday have a life sized puppet in my home that is the size of me when I was out of shape and gaining by the day (or at least that is how I currently feel, no matter how true or false it actually is.)

This brings us to today. A few weeks ago my good friend Noah came over and helped me make the cast of my legs! It was so much easier than me doing it myself, and it actually worked! They are now hanging out in my parents' kitchen until I get the rest of the body done and attach them all together. 

I realized I get really anxious the day I have to go do this casting. Today is one of those days. The reason it because I am not happy with my body. And not being I think I look fat or think I have to be skinny, but because I am not taking care of myself and I am at the age where that shows. But here it goes. It is time to get dressed, get snacks, go to Noah's, and do this thing. 

Here is my mantra as of late. Thanks, Marty.

-Martin Robinson 
at the Eugene O'Neill 
National Puppetry Conference 2015

I was just about to write about how frustrated I am having just failed at my first attempt at making a tape cast of my body for my self portrait. I was going to write about how I screamed a little inside trying to cut myself out of my failed attempt at making a copy of myself. I was going to write about how there are issues of finances, and body image, and vulnerability that this "failure" brings up. I was going to. But as I lay down on my bed, naked, after literally cutting the failure (including the clothes) off of myself, I did the obligatory facebook check. And saw this headline: "PJ Paparelli, artistic director of American Theater Company, dies at 40."


"PJ Paparelli, artistic director of American Theater Company, dies at 40."


"PJ Paparelli, artistic director of American Theater Company, dies at 40."

Was I not just having a conversation at The Grind with Tyler Core four hours ago about deaths in our Chicago theater community? Was I not just two weeks ago at a Back Room Shakespeare Project show that started off with reading a long list of names of community members who had died over the past year (including Erin Myers and Russ Tutterow who had died days and hours prior to that moment)? 

I wasn't close with PJ, but liked him the times I met him. Dying at 40 in a car crash? What? Dying at 40 at all? This is insanity.

Do I do ask who is next? Does that fear undermine the lives of the people we've lost this year? Am I immune to this Chicago theater death curse once I move to LA? 

I have friends who have narrowly escaped death recently. Some more privately, some more publicly. And their recoveries have been inspiring. 

At this point I'm just writing with no semblance of structure. So bear with me. 

... Here's the moral maybe--

I tried to do this duct tape dummy (attempted with gaff tape)by myself. Next time I will actually use duct tape. And I will use leggins instead of nylons because... well, for various reasons.
BUT most importantly, I will ASK FOR HELP from a friend. 


We enter this world alone and leave this world alone. We might as well be together while we're in it. 

As I edge toward my 30th birthday, I find myself excited, nervous, nostalgic, and frankly a little shocked. Shocked at the speed of time - shocked that know as much as I know and am as competent as I am - shocked at how truly clueless knowledge has made me feel and how far I have yet to travel - shocked that I have simultaneously experienced so much and so very little for my age - (shocked at how relative everything is and how wishywashy and general my "shocking" revelations are...) 

I foresee my 30th birthday as follows-- 
It is my third or fourth day as a resident of Los Angeles. I am couch surfing, but already working on a project or two in my new homeland. I am slightly whiplashed and exhausted blind. Yet the raw belief that ANYTHING is about to happen turns that exhaustion to exhilaration and energy. I have just left the loving arms of my family, my city, my community but I can feel them reaching out ready to catch me at anytime. Therefore, I am confident and ready to continue the journey- and besides, I have left a proxy. She is just about my height, my shape, her face follows the same curves as mine, and she contains pieces of my experience. The major difference between her and I? I am a human. She is a puppet.

Matt Ozawa and I first worked together at Oberlin College over 10 years ago. When he called me a few years ago and told me he was starting Mozawa I actually cried because this man is one of the most creative, talented, kindest people I know and his art makes the world a more beautiful place. Though he is great at heading the directing staff at the Lyric Opera of Chicago, and traveling around directing amazing shows for companies around the universe, it is about time he has a team behind him executing his vision. I'm so excited to have been part of his first Mozawa production, Fallen, in October 2014. And now I get to explore myself and put me out there for all to see as part of Y Portraits in July 2015. Yippee! 

So stay tuned to this station. And in the mean time, learn more about Mozawa by clicking here.